Review: The Art of Evil, Courtyard Theatre

There is great power in art; it can inspire people, inform or challenge perceptions, and evoke a range of emotions. In The Art of Evil, it is put to a very different use: to access another realm and open the way for a demonic invasion, which was not quite what the artist had in mind.

When intense investigator of the supernatural Matt (Matty McCabe) experiences a psychic vision of a woman’s murder that will have world-ending implications, he is determined to prevent this. His more grounded researcher and apprentice, Gabriel (Gabriel Parker-Ellwood) helps him identify the location from the vision as an art gallery, which starts the pair on an investigation across the art world. Meanwhile, the passionate upcoming artist Claire (Elsa Mills) is delighted to have her new paintings promoted by suave new sponsor Richard (Jamie Heart), even if she does not quite remember creating them. She would not be so pleased if she knew Richard’s ulterior motive, the demonic company he keeps, and their sinister plans for her.

Writers Dave Bourn and Alasdair Buddington have crafted an unsettling horror thriller, with the supernatural elements being heightened as they take place alongside discussions on the more mundane aspects of life. But there is also a thoughtful contemplation of the perceptions that allow different media of art to be enjoyed for different purposes. The two central pairs of characters have established relationships, which the cast brings to life with an easy chemistry. There is effective world-building to provide intriguing hints of the investigators’ history with the wider world of the supernatural.

As director, Bourn has worked with co-producer Heart to present distinct visual styles for the real-world and the supernatural elements, to contrast them and further heighten the unsettling atmosphere. Joe Murrell’s lighting adapts from bright and natural during scenes based in offices, galleries and theatres, to later bathing the stage in menacing dark red lights once the supernatural takes hold.  Likewise, Murrell enhances scenes with appropriate sound design, from cheerful background talk to mysterious ghostly whispering.

The costuming also provides a visual clue to the distinct personalities. Matt’s archaic style of pinstripe trousers, waistcoat and fob watch suggests his mystical nature, whilst Gabriel’s more inconspicuous jumper and blazer convey his more practical character. By contrast, there is no missing Richard’s showmanship in his glittering black tuxedo; he is so charismatic that his demon acolytes do not mind at all if he casually breaks their necks. The flowing black clothing of the supporting cast members portraying the demons (Asher Regal, Croia Dixon, Laura Maria, Mya Agrawal, Rosanna Vikberg and Ysabel Feury) are sinister enough even before vivid splatters of blood are noticed.

The movements of the cast are also notably distinct between portrayals of human and demon. McCabe and Parker-Ellwood make notably slower and more measured movements and often debate the investigation whilst sitting or standing static. In contrast, complex choreography and movement (designed by Regal and Maria) see the lithe supporting cast bringing the demonic spirits to unnatural life through more active flowing actions. They maintain impressive coordination as they glide, crawl and dance across the stage with unnatural physicality.  

This engaging production continually builds momentum for the contrasting grounded investigation and supernatural scheming, with compelling characters on both sides. The otherworldly threat can imbue everyday items and actions with a supernatural turn; these unsettling demons can even twist cheerful Christmas carols into sinister melodies.

Written by Dave Bourn and Alasdair Buddington
Directed by Dave Bourn
Produced by Dave Bourn and Jamie Heart
Choreography & Movement by Asher Regal and Laura Maria
Lighting & Sound by Joe Murrell
Presented by Modern Horror Stories

The Art of Evil has completed its run at The Courtyard Theatre as part of Camden Fringe 2026